Secrets
by Acromania
Summary: If he wants to or not, suddenly his secrets are revealed. / Obviously AU, OS, HG/DM


_A/N: Another Xover. Yeaha. I'm thinking about writing a sort of prologue for this one because if you read Secrets you'll dip right into the story. No explanation. Tell me in a review or PM if you would like to see that happen._

 _Betalove: Thanks to_ _ _ **kabg01**_ again for being the person she is.  
_

 _Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter or Criminal Minds._

* * *

 **Secrets**

"Ok, baby. I'll call you later. My sisters and I are going to get down to the cake." His voice is soft, promising. A warm feeling spreads through her.

"Will you tell your momma now?" She asks, smiling slightly at the silence afterwards. Bitterness. That's what makes her heart shrivel a bit more.

"It's not so easy, baby. If I tell her it's only a matter of time before the team finds out. Because seriously I want to shout it to the world." He says evasively. She stopped counting how often this argument took place in their two year long relationship. Of course she believes him. But it doesn't stop the pain. Or the slither of anger.

"Hotch knows. Gideon as well. Would it be so bad if everyone else knew as well?" She hates herself a bit for the sadness creeping up on her. That she can't stop it from creeping into her voice as well. She hears him sigh and bites her lip. Stupid, she calls herself mentally.

"That's not it, baby. You know it isn't. But this between you and me? That's private. That's just us. Can you blame me for keeping it that way a bit longer. I'm working with profilers…" He speaks softly again. Love surges through her veins because there is no annoyance or accusation in his voice.

"I know, honey. I'm sorry.. it's just.. you know." Even though he can't see her, her hand waves around as if she tries to catch an explanation that would put into words her feelings about all of this.

"I know, baby. I'm sorry how this makes you feel. You know I love you, though? That this isn't me being ashamed or anything?" He asks slightly afraid. In conversations not as heavy as this one she always smiled, feeling empowered to have a man like him wrapped around her finger like that. But not this time. Because she feels guilty that she wants something from him that goes against his believes.

"I know, honey. I love you, too. More than you know." She says, pushing away her feelings.

"So you'll call later, right? Do you know when exactly?"

"Around 9 pm. Not later. You need your sleep." Hearing his tone of voice she knows that their argument is over. She can picture his smile, his dark, beautiful eyes shining with the feelings he holds for her.

"Ok. Miss you, honey. Talk to you later." She says softly, not really ready to hang up.

"Miss you too, baby. Love you."

* * *

A commotion in the front part of the Chicago police station lets Hotch look up. He can't see who is involved in the situation and makes his way over to the front desk. Even he needs a moment to divert his attention sometimes. This case hits too close to home. It's one of his agents being accused. Until today he would have gone through fire for all of them, because he trusts them. But hearing about Morgan's past… well, he doesn't care for being kept in the dark about one of his agents. He doesn't like being lied to as well. The commotion pulls him out of his thoughts.

"I don't care! I'll take this up with your boss if I have to!" A woman's voice yells loudly. Hotch stops for a moment, taken aback. He rounds the corner and stays rooted to the floor.

"Hermione?" His voice sounds as unbelieving as he feels for once.

"Hotch. Thank God. This imbecile won't let me see Derek." Her eyes are a bit wet, her hand protectively placed on her bump. Her shoulders are shaking slightly, her breathe a bit quicker than normal.

"Excuse me, Miss…" The police officer protests, equally furious. Hotch ignores him and with long strides is next to her. Placing a comforting hand low on her back, he guides her towards the bull pen.

"You should calm down, Hermione. I don't think it's healthy…" He begins, tries to sound soothing. A fiery look from her shuts him up.

"Agent Hotchner…" The officer says indignantly.

"I'll take it from here, officer. Thank you." Hotch replies evenly. He laughs for a second when he sees Hermione throw him a victorious smile.

"Hotch, they won't tell me anything and of course Haley didn't know what happened..." Hermione starts, desperation and anger infusing her words.

"You called Haley?" He asks calmingly and settles her down on one of the chairs behind an untidy desk.

"Do you think I'm stupid. We both know Derek is the worse when it comes to keeping dates. He promised yesterday he would call. But he didn't. I knew something happened." Hermione explains annoyed.

"How'd you know he was here?" Hotch asks, maintaining as cool of a head as he can manage in this situation. Her cheeks flush a bit.

"I may or may not have taken some liberty with my clearance… . After driving up to his mom's I know he wasn't there and he didn't call… I had to at least look up where he could be." She mutters, averting her eyes.

"Hermione…" Hotch begins, a sigh accompanying her name. She crosses her arms over her protruding belly.

"It doesn't matter now…" Hermione says and Hotch shakes his head once.

"Now tell me, what is the matter here? Why is he here anyway? I didn't want to dig too deep. Who knows what Penelope has put up to keep your data safe after the last time..." Her eyes are glinting with a hidden threat and Hotch knowing Hermione wonders only for a second if he should tell her anything or not. Sighing, he leans a bit further down. His voice lowers as well.

"He is a suspect. They think he killed three boys in the last fifteen years." Hotch wants to sound soothing but transporting emotions was never one of his strong suits. Instead of raging on, Hermione blinks. Once, twice. Color's draining out of her face, leaving her pale and with worry glinting in her eyes.

"We have to find the killer." She says after a minute. Hotch frowns.

"Hermione, you are six months pregnant. There is a reason why Gideon keeps you out of most of our work. And I don't believe Morgan wants you here as well. Not for this. So there is no _we_ we're talking about here." Something tells him his reasoning won't reach her.

"I don't care. I won't stand for that racist continuing to make Derek's life hell." She seethes, her eyes focussing on the detective behind Hotch.

"What do you mean by that?" Hotch asks, throwing a quick glance over his shoulder. He misses the defeated look rushing over her features.

"It… it's not my story to tell." She just says and with a bit of trouble pushes herself out of the chair.

"Hotch, I want…" Before she can continue, a blonde woman enters the bull's pen.

"Hotch, I called Garcia…" She stops as well and stares at the woman next to her boss. A short silence stretches, Hotch massaging the bridge of his nose.

"JJ, this is Hermione. Hermione, this is Jennifer Jeroy. Our contact to the media." The women shake hands, exchanging small smiles.

"Hermione is…"

"I'm Derek's fiancee."

* * *

His face vanishes in his hands, a heavy sigh leaving his mouth. He doesn't know how all of this happened in only 24 hours. Last night he was sitting with nearly all of his family in his mother's living room and now he sits in this interrogation room with no idea what is going on outside.

He feels like a caged tiger. When he started his career he long buried his dream to play professional football. His knee injury prevented him from being a pro-player. Looking back at it now, maybe that happening was one of the good things in his life. Otherwise he would never have grown to his full potential, first working as a police officer in Chicago, then with the Bomb unit and lastly with the FBI.

Derek knows he is someone that looks for the kick. Adrenaline and righting the wrongs kept him going. His own past isn't something he can delete from the equation as well.

Sitting here, without the chance to do his part, without means to prove his innocence makes him angry. Angry and desperate. He knows that these two emotions aren't productive. So he stands up, walks back and forth, searching his brain for any information he could give his colleagues to solve this crime. There is only one person - aside from Gordinski - that comes to mind that still has a score to settle. Rodney Harris.

The door bursts open and Hotch walks in. Derek can say on first glance that he is angry. He ignores it though, stands up.

"Hotch, there is this one guy, Rodney Harris. He followed me around town since I … " His words get stuck in his throat when he sees who is standing just a few steps behind his boss.

"Mione…" He whispers, eyes going wide. Derek opens his arms already expecting his little spitfire of a woman to launch herself at him.

"Honey, oh honey." She sobs against his shirt, her small fists balling into the fabric. He protectively places his arms around her, leans his face down to breath in her unique scent that always calms him down. Soothingly rubbing her back, he pulls away slightly.

"Baby, what are you doing here?" He admonishes softly, leading her over to the table. His voice is tinged with worry and a bit of anger as well. Traveling in her condition isn't something he likes.

"Don't look at me like that, Derek Morgan." Hermione presses out through her emotions overwhelming her. She grips his hand.

"I won't let you get accused of something that you never could've done. I won't." He smiles slightly. His woman. Always so righteous and headstrong.

"I know, baby. But you can't just come here and think to fight the world for me." He brushes back some of her stubborn curls, placing his hand afterwards on her cheek. A chuckle leaves his lips, pulling some of the stress out of his system, when she huffs at him.

"I can. And I will. You can't make me just stand by. Especially when this Gordinski character is blaming you without proper evidence." He sighs again, his eyes going to Hotch who just watches their reunion with a closed of face.

"I know, baby. But I have my team here. They won't allow anything to happen to me." Derek tries to calm her down and though Hermione trusts his team as best as she can, her fiance sees that she won't give up.

"And there is something I need you to do for me." He thinks of something quick, to divert her attention from his case. He knows, that she is a force to be reckoned with, but he can't keep her around here. It's no environment for a pregnant woman. And he is ashamed as well. As open as he was with her, he still kept some things to himself. Who wants to tell his woman…

"Just tell me, Derek. You know I'll help you in any way I can." She says, squeezing his hand softly.

"I need some data. Look through the reports for missing children for me. Maybe dig up something so we can put a name to the first two victims. Maybe we can find the unsub with it. Can you do that, baby?" Derek sees Hotch nod once then his attention switches back to Hermione. She frowns slightly. Then sighs.

"I know what you're doing, Morgan. But I'll let it slip. Only this time." She heaves herself up out of the chair, looking into his eyes.

"I love you. We'll get through this. I know we will." She utters softly, placing a hand on his fast beating heart. For a moment her sincerity and his love for her overwhelms him. He grabs her face with both of his hands and kisses her deeply. When they part, he looks after her, and for a moment longer to the door she vanishes behind. Taking a breathe he centers himself, taking up his point before his woman entered the interrogation room.

"Hotch, I have to tell you something. There is a gang banger … Rodney Harris. When looking for trouble around here it always ends with him."

"You have a criminal record, were previously convicted." Hotch says instead of reacting to Derek's information. Aaron watches his agent for any reaction.

"What?" Morgan's voice sounds disbelieving. He takes the papers from Hotch, looking through his own damn file. His stomach churns violently for a second. Afterwards he only feels anger and a slice of betrayal slowly building inside of him.

"Where did you get this shit?" He asks, aggressively staring at his boss. Where did they dig this up!

"Why does that matter." Hotch says indifferently, schooling his features into a mask of nonchalance.

"Hotch, this should have been deleted. My file is clean." Derek says, gesturing to the paper in his hand.

"I told you to tell me everything, to not keep anything out." Aaron answers, his eyes slightly narrowing. He is aware that the tension in the room builds slowly but surely higher and higher.

"This was deleted by a judge. This doesn't exist anymore, dude. I was a child. This doesn't count." Morgan continues in a voice clearly showing his anger. He takes a few steps to his boss. Hotch tries to stay calm, places one of his hands in his pockets.

"Grievous Assault?" Hotch points out. Derek closes his eyes for a second and takes a deep breathe. You can do it, Morgan. He tells himself and mentally rages for this shit to even come up. He should have known though. Information like this isn't completely deleted and being in the situation he is in screams for corpses to be pulled out of his cellar. Shaking his head once, he braces himself and accepts, that he has to share something of his past. Something he never wanted anyone to know about.

"Ok, we were just boys. We had a fight with a few other boys. Rodney, the gang banger I just told you about. He and I had a little problem. He got one from me and needed a few stitches. The judge said it's assault. That's all." Hotch has it to give to him. He sounds honest. And knowing Morgan as long as he has, he knows when he is withholding information. Aaron watches how the other man takes a few steps backwards, desperation visible in his eyes. Desperation to be trusted. But Hotch doesn't think that it adds up. Not when speaking about murder and pinning it to someone else.

"So, you mean to tell me, that this Rodney murdered three children because you roughed him up a bit?" He asks though, wants to understand what Derek is trying to say to him. Disbelief is clearly there, though.

"No." Derek says, closing his eyes again. "I mean, he followed me through the city since I got back here. So please, go and talk to him. After you'll know more. This was deleted."

"You should've told me. Detailed information is important for the victimology." Hotch continues, taking a few steps to Morgan to convey how really angry he is. There is a short silence following his words.

"What? Wait… victimology?" Derek can't believe his own ears. What is he talking about?

"It could be that someone wants to set you up with this last victim."

"Is this a profile of me?" Morgan demands angrily, his eyes widen a bit.

"Morgan, we have to-"

"No, we don't have to do anything!" Both men's voices rise considerably.

"It doesn't look good for you." Hotch breathes out, tries to convey the seriousness of the situation. He would like to say that he is worried for one of his team, but he has to stay as objective as possible.

"But Hotch!" Derek exclaims, a disbelieving laugh escaping him. "This is total bullshit! Do you think I'm afraid of Gordinski out there?"

"No, but we still have three dead boys-"

"Then you have to do their profile! That - " He tries to calm himself down, "is the case." There is a pause, tension-filled and uncomfortable. Hotch watches his agent when he asks the next question, out of ire and because something tells him that Morgan cleary has hidden more of his past.

"Are there any other things you don't want us to find out about you." It's more of a statement than a question and it irks Morgan even more.

"Hotch, the people I'm working with don't have to know everything about me."

* * *

On her way back she stops in the small corridor. Sighing Hermione messages the bridge of her nose. The tension around her just screams for a headache to develop. She is used to it by now but it doesn't help in this situation. The worry and anger don't as well for that matter.

"Who are you?" Hermione jerks away from the wall, her eyes falling on the man to her right. She frowns when she sees who spoke to her.

"Dr. Hermione Granger." She states as calmly as she can. The Detective looks at her suspiciously.

"What are you doing back here, young lady?" He asks, stepping closer. Hermione tries not to roll her eyes at his tactics. Please, she thinks and huffs silently.

"I was visiting my fiance who you arrested without proper evidence I may add." She says and crosses her arms over her chest.

"Fiance?" He says, an uncomfortable smirk pulling at his lips. Then his face is serious again, the suspicion showed earlier increasing.

"Never thought a guy like him would find anyone." The Detective says and even without her previous knowledge she now would know that he despises Derek Morgan.

"Well, he is a Fed agent, so I shouldn't be surprised that he could pull the wool over a woman's eyes, too." Gordinski says and is about to turn away, but Hermione stops him, stands upright. Her body pulses with righteous anger.

"He didn't pull the wool over anyone's eyes, Detective." She spits out and Gordinski turns around again.

"Didn't he? So I guess he told you that he was sentenced with grievous assault? Or that he murdered another boy at the age of 13?" The smile on the Detective's face makes Hermione want to vomit and punch him at the same time.

"You didn't know?" He continues, victory glinting in his blue eyes.

"Oh, I know what you try to pin to him." Hermione answers accordingly, her voice deathly calm. She knows arguing with the detective won't help her. But she just can't keep quiet when someone accuses Derek like that. Wants to drag him through the dirt. Derek doesn't deserve that. No one does. Innocent until proved different.

"Pin to him? Ms. Granger-"

"Dr. Granger for you, Detective." She interjects, her voice brittle with anger. Gordinski scowls but Hermione doesn't let him continue.

"He defended himself and his friends when Rodney Harris bullied them again - something you knew about right from the beginning and still made him out to be a gang banger before the judge anyway." The pregnant woman tries to remember her education, tries to remember what Gideon always said, that you shouldn't let emotions overrule your calmness, your logic. But she doesn't give a rat's ass at the moment.

"And the murder you are talking about? Derek found the boy in a neglected yard. Anyone could have put him there. Just because a young boy stumbles over a corpse you don't make him the murderer." Gordinski laughs humorlessly.

"You seem to have it all figured out, don't you." He says, his face closing in on her own. Another tactic to intimidate her. She has to stop herself from laughing. He doesn't know that she fought a war. That she was tortured and that a man like him isn't able to infuse her with fear.

"Anyone who sees the facts would know that you're simply wrong and a bigot." The man huffs and Hermione already wants to leave this corridor and never talk to the detective again. Before she can turn away he talks up again.

"If he isn't responsible for the murder why would he visit the grave every time he's in the city? Why would he pay for a headstone?" Gordinski challenges. Hermione scoffs.

"Because, Detective and that probably is a foreign concept to you, Derek cares. Too much sometimes. And because he is a good man that even though he didn't know the boy who was murdered still tries to find out who said boy was. Because Derek wants that at least someone remembers him." She sees it in his eyes. He doesn't want to believe her. Hermione is sure she could bury him under evidences pointing to the real murderer and psychologic certificates he still wouldn't see reason. She sighs.

"I know that you have to see a lot, Detective. That being a cop in this neighborhood is hard and ungrateful. I understand your desperation. But I won't let you do this to my fiance any longer. These observations, following him, arresting him. You'll see how wrong you were."

Hermione turns away then. She knows that arguing with a man determined that he knows the truth is pointless. But she tried. She'll always try. Shaking her head, she leaves the corridor and goes back to her laptop. There are files to look through.

* * *

Her laptop is placed on a random desk. From her spot in the bull's pen, she can see one of the woman on Derek's team. JJ, Aaron said is her name. As honest as Derek has been these last two years, he never talks much about his team. Or his cases. Hermione thinks that he just wants to protect his personal life from his job. Knowing what she does about his profession it isn't a surprise. She as well doesn't want to cloud their relationship with the scum they have to work against every day.

What makes her sad is that he is so reluctant to tell his team that he is going to be a daddy soon. To be married soon. Hermione isn't blind and not stupid enough to not know that the BAU - traveling a lot, working over hours and so close with each other - is like a family. A close knit group of highly intelligent people. And they are important to her man. He doesn't have to tell her. She knows what it means to work against criminals, that it binds people of different backgrounds but with the same goal together.

And as far as she can tell all of his colleagues are good people. Hermione looks to JJ again. She has a phone placed on her ear. Hermione doesn't like snooping so much, but this case - this whole situation tells her that she has to do things in a different way. Forget her black-and-white mentally for at least a bit. She doesn't know how to talk to her though. And blames her sometimes awkward social abilities.

When JJ hangs up, Hermione goes back to her own screen, scanning the information the data base shows her. It annoys her that she couldn't find anything so far. No name, no address, not a crumb to show her where the first victim came from. A cup is placed next to her, the steam rising soothingly in the stagnant air of the bull's pen.

"JJ, right?" Hermione inquires softly, leaning back against her chair and smiles winningly. Unconsciously she places a hand on her stomach. All that stress isn't good for her or her child.

"Is it because I'm british or because I'm pregnant that you're bringing me tea?" She asks mischievously and glances at the blonde FBI agent.

"Both, I guess." JJ smiles and pulls another chair over to Hermione's workstation. She stares for a second, a grin pulling at her lips.

"I'm sorry. I don't want to stare or pry, but… I… I mean, we never knew Derek had a girlfriend. Not to mention a fiance." The blonde woman chimes warmly, friendliness shining in her eyes.

"We both thought it wasn't as important to make it public knowledge. I guess it's just normal for us. We never talk about work at home." Hermione shrugs, her eyes focus on the note paper JJ holds in her hand. Before the blonde can say anything, Hermione speaks up again.

"You're diggin' around in Derek's past." She points with her chin to JJ's notes. The blonde sighs.

"We have to. I hate it. Our technical analyst, Garcia, as well. We all need our privacy. It feels like betrayal or something like that." A hand goes through her hair, worry clearly more pronounced now.

"I know. It's what I would do as well, though. And you don't do it to prove his guilt. You want him out of here and going against your beliefs to help a friend is something I can admire." Hermione explains matter of factly. JJ chuckles softly.

"And here I thought I had to comfort you. Thank you." Hermione brushes it off with a wave of her hand.

"I'm a bit more emotional, true. But it won't help me get my man back. And that's all I need to be professional." JJ looks at the small woman with admiration building in herself. She's small, a bit pale with freckles on her nose and a head of wild hair. Pregnancy looks good on her. She never would have guessed that this sort of woman would be Morgan's type.

"JJ, I have to ask…." Hermione begins, chewing on her bottom lip for a moment.

"Yes?" JJ prods gently, her whole focus fixed on her team member's fiancee.

"Why did Gordinski, aside from his old grudge and lack of intellect, arrest Derek? I mean, was there something pointing at him?" The blonde FBI agent mentally argues with herself for a moment. Hermione is under a lot of stress and the truth could put more of that on her. And plant a seed of mistrust in the BAU team. But she sighs and thinks that honesty is the only way to deal with this whole chaotic situation.

"Gideon, one of our team members. He met Gordinski on a lecture. Gordinski told him about a case and Gideon asked him to send all the information so he could build a profile. That's the reason he arrested Morgan. He used the profile and scrambled together facts to fit it." JJ explains, her voice low. Hermione tries to suppress her irritation and only nods.

"I see." She says and JJ places a hand on her forearm.

"I swear, if Gideon would have known what his profile would do to one of our own-"

"You don't have to apologize for something you didn't do, JJ. It's fine." Hermione forces a smile to her lips and blows softly on her cup to let the tea cool down a bit faster. In a blink of an eye the atmosphere changes. Hermione's eyes are fixed on a man who just entered with an obviously grieving woman. JJ throws them both a look over her shoulder, then looks back to the woman next to her.

"Hermione? What is it?" JJ asks, her voice muted to not draw unnecessary attention.

"Carl Buford." She mutters, an air of anger surrounding her. Her knuckles are white around her tea cup. JJ raises an eyebrow.

"Penelope told me that Buford's statement was responsible for cleaning Morgan's file." The blonde says, her eyes never leaving Hermione. The latter closes her eyes for a moment, takes a deep breathe.

"Yeah, he was." She says, a curious mix of emotions underlying her statement.

"And?" JJ prods gently.

"Nothing. It's nothing." The blonde is aware that the smile around Hermione's mouth is more forced than anything else but she doesn't point it out. Silence stretches between them.

"I'm going to head back to work." JJ says after a while to what Hermione nods and faces her laptop again, her fingers already typing away on the machine.

* * *

"When can I get outta here?" Morgan asks, his voice tired, his shoulders slumped a bit. Gideon sees all of this, but has to concentrate on the task at hand. Finding out if, or better to say what Derek Morgan is hiding from them. He sorts through pictures of the crime scene and huffs.

"That wouldn't be a good idea." He says, his voice not showing his own emotions.

"Says who?" Morgan asks, his body language changing from the slight defeat he portrayed to defiance.

"Unfortunately I delivered the profile that arrested you." Gideon replies, his hands braced against the back of the chair in front of him.

"What?" Morgan asks, takes a few steps forward.

"He sent me the files a few months back. I answered him routinely. But… he wanted to blame you right from the start." The older profile smiles angrily. Derek sits down heavily and huffs.

"Great. Prejudgement." He mutters, his hands falling into his lap.

"We can't bring him to let you go. That wouldn't make a good impression on the media." Gideon explains matter-of-factly, hoping that the talented agent in front of him would see reason and don't give in to the stress put on his shoulders. Derek huffs again.

"Don't talk to me about media, Gideon." He says, his voice lacking the energy he otherwise displays in all the things he does.

"Please understand. We can't have it seem like we try to hide anything." Morgan looks up at this, speculations forming in his mind. He doesn't like the sound of it. Not at all.

"Is this a hidden accusation?" He says, voice laced with a bit more anger than appropriate. His dark eyes glint in worry. He doesn't like the way Gideon averts his eyes, how he takes a few seconds before he responds.

"If there is a secret, we need to know it. Trust us and let us in."

"Gideon, this isn't about lacking trust. I want to protect my privacy." Morgan snaps, his emotions slowly creeping up on him. His voice gets a bit louder when he continues, but it's still infused with hurt and the wish for a life away from the job.

"I have the right to keep things to myself, too. I mean, look at us. We practically live together already." Gideon looks away again. He can understand Derek's wish. He has it himself.

"If that's the case, we only have one option. We have to catch the murderer." Morgan nods and holds the older profiler's gaze.

* * *

As soon as he leaves the interrogation room Gideon makes his way over to his colleagues only to be intercepted by the pregnant fiancee of his team member.

"You!" She growls, a finger boring into Gideon's chest.

"Hermione. Always a pleasure." The older man replies both amused and confused.

"Don't you Hermione me, Jason!" She continues loudly. On his second glance he sees anger seeping out of her eyes. He throws a quick glance to JJ and Hotch who both seem surprised by the sudden outburst.

"What have I done?" He asks, his voice taking on a serious edge. He knows Hermione. Knew her for a long time. She isn't an ice cube, but her emotions she sees as something private and shares them accordingly. For her to be this open with them with so many people around her tells him how distraught she is. Her bottom lip quivers slightly, a shaking intake of air follows.

"It was your profile, Jason. Your profile." She says, voice breaking lightly.

"I know." He says, brushing away her finger, taking her hand into his own.

"Why didn't you ask for more details. You always talk about details. How they're important." She continues, a tear escaping her eyes. She shuts them tightly for a second. Her voice is loud in the otherwise slowly quieting bull's pen. The profiler slowly shakes his head at Hotch when he makes a move to intervene.

"I know." Gideon says again, his focus going back to the young woman in front of him.

"And I'm sorry." He punctuates the sentence with a kiss placed on her hand. Hermione looks him dead in the eyes, sadness replaced by danger.

"Good. Because you'll get him out of this! It's your fault that he's even here. That Gordinski just waited for the opportunity and you gave it to him on a bloody silver platter." Her voice is a bit calmer but still has the same impact on Gideon.

"I will. I promise, I will." Jason says honestly, hugging the small woman against him. He looks to Hotch over her head. They both know that they can't fail. For the sake of Derek, their team and his fiancee.

* * *

When he has Hermione settled behind her laptop again, he finally approaches Hotch and JJ. Without preamble he begins his questioning.

"Could you dig up something about Morgan?" JJ looks between Hotch and Gideon then nods.

"The file wasn't complete as we checked it. Everything critical was deleted and sealed off by a judge." She begins explaining Garcia's and her findings.

"There are judges who forgive." Gideon throws in his voice infused with an ironic undertone. JJ looks to her file again and continues speaking.

"Someone really ran the extra mile for Morgan. A man who's really respected in the community. He personally vouched for him." At that she throws a short glance to Hermione who is again working on her laptop. But something tells JJ that the other woman is listening in on to them.

"Sounds like someone we really need to talk to." Hotch says, his voice lowered. The blonde nods.

"That should be simple." She points with a nod of her head behind the two agents.

"He's standing right there." Gideon and Hotch turn around, focussing on the afroamerican man dressed in a grey suit. He looks to be in his late forties early fifties, his stature speaking of a sport filled life.

When Buford is finished with Gordinski he marches over to the coffee, takes up a cup and approaches the three FBI agents.

"So you're working with Derek?" He asks, his voice with a hint of something in it not quite recognizable to them.

"Yes, Sir. Closely." Hotch answers professionally. Gideon, as is his style, smiles winningly and inserts himself into the dialogue.

"You knew him as a teenager?"

"One of the best guys I ever had the pleasure to train. Football. I head a youth centre." Gideon smiles, nods along.

"I suppose you were the one responsible for clearing his criminal record?" His eyes never leave Buford for any hint if there is a secret he is missing.

"Yes, and I really regret it now." Buford says, his features pulled into a mask of a professional apology.

"Really?" JJ asks, arms crossed in front of her.

"After what happened yesterday, sure." Buford explains.

"The accusations aren't true." Gideon says lightly. The football trainer turns away a bit, his voice confused.

"I don't understand. Stan told me there are a lot of evidence." Before either of the agents can ask another question Detective Gordinski joins their small group.

"Yes, there are." He agrees and shakes hands with Buford.

"Thank you, Carl. You can drive Ms. Walters home now. Thank you for bringing her here."

"Yeah, my pleasure." Gideon watches this whole interaction with a raised eyebrow.

"Derek Morgan? It's still hard for me to believe it." Buford looks to the FBI agents. Hotch isn't sure if the trainer wants them to tell him more about the case or if it is just an act.

"Yes, the FBI too has troubles believing it." The detective throws them a knowing glance.

"Understandable. Derek has us all blinded with his charming ways. He was always good in hiding his shortcomings." JJ leans forward, her voice a bit furious.

"What do you mean shortcomings?"

"You yourself read his file, didn't you?" Buford asks. Hotch interjects then, pulling the attention away from JJ.

"He visited the youth centre yesterday, didn't he?" The head of the BAU feels a certain tickle in the back of his head, as if his intuition wants to tell him something but he can't really grasp it.

"He played with Damien and a few of the other guys football." Buford agrees a small frown starting to form around his lips.

"Carl saw them vanishing together." Gordinski throws into the conversation. Hotch knows he is on to something. He doesn't know what exactly. The controversial way Buford speaks about Derek is suspicious.

"Did you talk to him?" Hotch continues questioning.

"I worked in the house but when I was finished they went on their way." Suspicious again. Why would someone who trained a teenager not talk to that teenager later. Especially if he made a life out of himself and left the street?

"When did you talk to him for the last time?" There twitches something around Buford's eyes.

"Don't know. Years probably." Buford turns away. "If you need anything else, Stan, tell me." With that the trainer vanishes. Hotch nods to Gideon, indicating that he should probably speak to the detective again. He, himself has another plan. He has to speak with Derek again.

Gideon leans back against the desk behind him, watching the detective who seems to be carefree in a certain way. Probably because he finally put his supposed nemesis behind closed doors.

"You seem to get along with Mr Buford." He rhetorically asks to what the detective smiles a bit.

"I can't say how often he helped me when I started as a detective. No one knows the kids better than him." Gordinski replies.

"Was he involved in the case?" Gideon asks, his eyes searching the detective's face.

"What?"

"Buford. Did you keep him updated on the development of the case? Did he get any information from you?" Gideon explains, his voice taking on an edge that it always does when talking to persons he isn't sure can be trusted.

"Yes, he…" The detective stops short, throwing Gideon a disbelieving glance.

"Hey, you don't want to pin it to Carl just to save your colleague, do you?" Gideon puts up his hands in a pacifying way and smiles.

"No, it was just a question." Gordinski looks stern suddenly, his tone changing from carefree to suspicious in a second.

"Carl Buford is a big hero around here." Gideon nods.

"I didn't say otherwise."

* * *

Hotch enters the interrogation room, his goal clear in mind. He has to get to the bottom of this. It seems like the only way to save Morgan. To prove that he isn't involved in killing these children. Aaron knows that he has to keep himself in check. He is still a bit peeved that Morgan didn't tell him that he once had a criminal record. Gideon's words when they spoke alone help. _We all have our secrets…_

"Carl Buford." He just says and mentally cringes slightly because his voice sounds accusatory even to his own ears. Morgan watches him taking a turn around the room until he stands in front of him.

"What?" He just asks, overwhelmed with memories and a sudden fear.

"Carl Buford. He's the head of the youth centre." Hotch sees how Derek tries to control his features. The younger profiler leans back in his chair, tries for nonchalance but swallows thickly before he can find his voice.

"What's that to do with anything?" He asks, his voice not sounding quite like he wanted it to. His adam's apple bobs once.

"He was the one responsible for deleting your criminal record." Hotch says, crosses his arms in front of his chest but otherwise stays still. He doesn't react when Morgan's fist crashes down on the table or when he stands up suddenly. Hotch doesn't miss the warning tone in Morgan's voice though.

"Stay out of this. These things only concern me."

"Every time you are in the city you go to the youth centre."

"That doesn't matter."

"Buford didn't talk to you in years. Why do you never visit the man who enabled you for your career?" Derek's sudden angry outburst surprises Hotch though he tries not to show it. He ignores the papers falling to the floor, ignores the angry growl leaving Morgan's mouth.

"What the hell, Hotch." Derek's eyes gleam angrily. His hands are balled into fists beside him.

"That doesn't concern you!" He repeats again, taking huge gulps of air to stay as calm as possible in this situation.

"Buford told the detectives that he saw you with Damien." Hotch continues calmly, no outward sign how this conversation gets to him. No outward sign that a terrifying thought enters his mind.

"I'm warning you, Hotch. Back off."

* * *

Satisfied with what she sees - all three FBI agents focussed on their tasks - she quickly makes her way into the back. The interrogation room isn't locked because it isn't necessary. At least the Chicago police got something right on this case. Looking around for a second she pushes the door open and slithers into the room.

A piercing pain races through her when she sees Derek sitting against the wall, head placed in his hands. Slowly making her way over to him, she tries to lower herself down next to him. Before she can, though, Derek looks up. His eyes widen slightly when he sees her.

"Baby, what are you doing here?" He asks her, looking around her to the door. Derek frowns slightly when he sees no other person with her. Huffing slightly Hermione gives up and just pushes herself again in a standing position. Derek joins her, putting his arms around her to ground himself. This whole day is hell and he feels like he can only overcome this when he knows that she is by his side. Leaning her head against his chest - she barely reaches his shoulders - she takes a deep breathe. She knows what she has to do.

"I wanted to see you. And to give you a chance to make things right." The last part she whispers and doesn't need to see his face to know that his eyes widen slightly. One hand softly slaps his chest.

"I'm still a bit peeved sometimes that you still think that you're a mystery to me." She mumbles, cheek pressed against his shirt.

"It's not that, baby. It's that you would go this far to help me." He answers, placing a kiss on the crown of her hair.

"Of course I would. I told you I would." She says matter-of-factly looking up from her comfortable position against him. He smiles, a smile so honest and filled with love that it takes her breathe away.

"You said so, yes." Derek leans down then, places a kiss on her mouth and pulls her more into him. After a few seconds Hermione pulls away.

"As happy as I would be to continue this, you have a murderer to find." She silently says, her eyes conveying the trust in him.

"Yeah… I love you, baby." He says and kisses her again.

"Love you, too." Hermione answers, finally letting go of him. Before he can vanish through the door, though, she speaks up again.

"Derek, please come back to us." There is a short pause, then

"Always, baby."

* * *

When Hotch enters the bull's pen again, he hears Gideon say:

"I don't say it's Mr. Buford. I just say that there is still a lot of investigation to do."

"In the last fifteen years there was not one suspicious fact." Gordinski replies. Hotch reaches them and interjects.

"Morgan doesn't even want to talk about Mr. Buford."

"He won't?" Gideon asks, slowly taking up the facts that Hotch already connected and coming to the same conclusion.

"Buford should be his hero as well." The detective says looking over to the head of the BAU.

"Something happened there." He says, not quite finished yet. Emily suddenly appears at his shoulder.

"Are you talking about Carl Buford? We arrived from his office a few minutes ago." Suddenly a loud yell pierces the office and everyone turns around to see one of the officers.

"Did we actually let him go?" He asks, taking in the BAU and Detective Gordinski. Hotch on the other hand throws a look to Hermione who looks as confused as the rest wouldn't it be for a certain glint in her eyes.

Gordinski vanishes to the interrogation room, only to come back a few seconds later. His eyes single in on the woman sitting at her laptop.

"You set him free!" He accuses, taking big steps in her direction.

"I saw you going down that corridor!" Gideon has to hide a smile when he sees her poker face firmly in place.

"I was on the toilet. If you haven't noticed detective", something about the way she says it lets it sound like a joke, "I'm six months pregnant and my bladder under lots of pressure." The detective turns slightly pink and turns around.

"You let him get away! You were the last person with him." Gordinski says, his eyes single in on Hotch.

* * *

"We are looking for a black man, 33 years old. 1.83 meters high. His name's Derek Morgan." Gordinski's partner lets the person on the other end of the telephone know. Hermione watches with a mixture of anger and trepidation coursing through her veins.

"You want to tell me that one of our heros is the murderer, while you let my suspect escape through the backdoor? I'll get you in front of a judge! All of you!" Gordinski yells angrily and leaves Hotch and Gideon behind. Both of them approach Hermione.

"Why did you do it." Gideon demands more than asks. Hermione raises an eyebrow at his tone.

"Did what exactly?" She asks, turning around in her chair to look at them fully.

"Don't play dumb, Hermione. It doesn't suit you." Hotch scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest. Hermione throws a glance around them.

"He has to take care of a few things." She says and the glint in her eyes tells both men that she won't say anything anymore.

"They can't do that." JJ says, approaching the others.

"What?" Hotch asks eyeing her worried expression.

"They have to tell their officers that he isn't dangerous. They'll shoot him or something." She explains, wringing her hands.

"Take it up to Gordinski." Gideon advices and JJ nods determinedly, her eyes glancing to Hermione who is a bit paler now.

* * *

"Detective, you have to tell your officers that Derek Morgan isn't dangerous." JJ says urgently, following the detective to his desk.

"That would be nice, wouldn't it. Not going to happen."

"But detective-"

"Listen, Lady. I'm the one in charge here. I give the orders. And Derek Morgan is a threat." JJ looks at him disbelievingly, narrows her eyes when he doesn't react. She turns around then and approaches the other FBI agents.

"We can't talk him out of this. We have to find him first." She says and the others nod along. Emily and Spencer are a bit confused about the woman standing with them. Especially because they didn't see another detective - one who is on top of that pregnant - when they arrived this morning.

"Hotch, who…" Spencer begins but is interrupted by Hotch himself.

"No time for that now. Anyone got an idea?" He asks, eyeing first of all Hermione. She wants to give Derek time to finish all of this, give him time to fight his demons. But a huge part of her is afraid what would happen if Gordinski reaches him first. As far as she can tell the detective would shoot first and ask questions later. Her heart is racing thinking about it. A hand on the lower part of her back lets her look up. Gideon is pulling her more towards himself.

"Well, his mother told us that Buford raised him after Morgan's father was killed. He was his mentor. Took him along on holidays, spent a lot of time with him. He was something like his stepdad." Emily explains their findings. Hotch and Gideon though are looking at Hermione. Try as she might, she can't suppress the shudder of anger and disgust coursing through her body, the anger written on her face. She feels guilty because something tells her that she just gave both of the older profilers the last hint they needed to complete the puzzle named Derek Morgan and Carl Buford. Hotch looks to Hermione, a rueful expression in his eyes.

"I know now what he was afraid of that we could find out." Hotch turns around, calling out to the detective.

"We can tell you where he's going."

Meanwhile Hermione turns away from the younger FBI agents, burying her face in Gideon's side. He comfortingly rubs her back, his own conclusion bitter and terrifying in his head.

* * *

Morgan slowly approaches the football field - a peck of dust and dirt with a fence around it. In the street lamp light he can see James - a promising young boy, once friend of Damien the last victim - practicing runs.

Derek's stomach churns. Flashes of his own memory appear in front of his eyes. He once was that boy, dreaming big and working harder. He wanted to support his family, wanted to flee from this dangerous environment and not end up a gang banger like so many of his friends did. He wanted to make his father proud.

This place - the youth centre - holds some of his best and worst memories. His feet drag a bit because some part of him - maybe the part of him that is still that teenage boy without a father figure he wants to look up to - doesn't want to face the reality of his past. He doesn't want to dip into that dark pit in his mind because he is afraid he will drown. Not come out again.

But he pushes onward, reminds himself that there is a great team supporting him. That there is his family who is so proud of their son and brother to be working for the FBI. Who makes the world a safer place. And there is Hermione. Bookish, temperamental, righteous Hermione who can give Reid - if they ever meet officially - a run for his money. Who is pregnant with their first child and agreed to marry him. Even though he works late hours and is on the road more than he is at home. It gives him hope for the future and strength for the present to think about them.

He slowly enters the field, says: "Looks good, James."

"I called you." The boy, teenager, James says half-heartedly. A bit of accusation is in his tone. Derek nods.

"Now I'm here." Derek picks up the football, weighs it in his hand.

"Damien was murdered." James says, his scrawny build weighing from one foot to the other. Morgan looks to him, determined to make things right.

"I know." He says, guilt and sadness creeping into his voice. He steels himself against his emotions.

"James" He finally says and throws the football, "we have to talk about Carl Buford." The boy shrugs.

"What's with him?"

"You are the star player, aren't you? The number one." Derek says, his own memories clouding his eyes.

"Yeah, I guess." James answers though reluctantly.

"You know" Derek says, catching the football, "I was once his star player as well." James chuckles.

"Yes, I know."

"It's pretty hard, isn't it. To keep him satisfied. To impress him." Morgan continues, waiting for any sign that he knows will be there the more he speaks about his own experience.

"I've got this." James says, a smile still on his youthful face. Derek smiles as well. At the hopes he sees in the boy's dark eyes, in the strength. They are so freaking similar.

"I'm sure, boy."

"Did he take you to the hut?" Derek asks then, his voice lower, a bit brittle, and angry. He is so angry.

"What?" James asks, confused.

"Fishing in Wisconsin. Camping. Everything you would've like to do with your real father?" The profiler feels his face morph into a edgy mask, into hurt and rage.

"Sometimes." There is fear in James' eyes. He can see it now.

"He's pretty good at that." Morgan mumbles, turning the football in his hands. He waits for the boy to say something.

"You know of the hut?" He asks, shame flittering across his features. Derek nods slightly.

"James, I said I once was you." The confusion comes back to the teenager's face.

"What do you mean?" Morgan catches the football again. His legs and feet feel like they are filled with lead, but the look in James' eye, the way his mouth pulls into a frown, shows uncertainty and a bit of fear, lets him move forward nonetheless. His boots makes a crunchy sound on the dirt.

"The first time you didn't know what it means. He touched you. Only slightly. You thought it was just a slip. But then he allowed you to drink something with him in his hut. You thought that it's cool. You felt like an adult. He gave you a glass of wine. Maybe even something stronger. Then he took you to swim. He wanted you to just go naked. Then he hassled you, didn't he?" There is silence, stretching, for far too many seconds. But Morgan needs the time and James bites on his bottom lip because he doesn't want himself to show how confused and afraid he is. Morgan swallows, then:

"He did that to me, too. You do everything in your power to please him because he is the one being even remotely like a father. But what he does to you is wrong." Derek's voice picks up a bit, is stronger, is insistent. He wants to make sure that James understands it now and not years later when it already left a dark pit in his mind. Not like Derek himself dealt with it.

"You can't allow him to continue doing this to you." Derek says finally, brushes away the hand that connects with his shoulder.

"I can do it." James says. Morgan shakes his head.

"No, no you can't. You can't do it."

"My oldest brother is in jail. My sister is disabled because of a stupid shooting. She's only eight. I'm everything that my momma has left. Only I can take us out of here. Carl sees to it that I can go to college. That I can do something with myself." James explains, emotions clouding his voice. Desperation at its forefront.

"But you are someone already, brother. You are someone. Right now. Without Carl Buford. You only have to believe it." James looks away and Morgan knows how difficult it is to break free of this circle.

"He isn't here now. It's only you. You are out here in the dark, practicing plays. That's just you. That has nothing to do with Carl Buford." His fist softly lays down over James' heart.

"That what's beating here inside of you that will get you away from the street."

"You never told anyone, though." James not really accuses but it feels to Morgan like that. Maybe because he himself thinks so, too. That he was a coward for not talking. For not stopping this when he could. For not protecting the boys after him.

"No, not until now." He agrees readily.

"Damien said, I should call you." James finally says, face scrunching up in sadness.

"What?" Morgan asks, confused. "Damien knew?"

"I thought you wouldn't believe me." James explains and Derek takes a deep breath.

"James, I'll watch over you. Always."

* * *

Hermione isn't sure what to think. She feels awful standing behind Hotch, listening in to a conversation long overdue. She feels awful listening to Derek coming clean. This is his moment. His cleansing breath. And no one should hear this.

"I was so afraid of you. I was afraid of the police." Tears gather in her eyes. She knows how it feels to not be able to speak to anyone. A year on the run without her parents, teachers, adults she could run to. It feels like the whole world is against you. That you aren't safe. Anywhere. Her heart clenches in sympathy.

"God, I should have told someone when I still was a child." Derek shouts, anger for himself infusing his words. Hermione presses a hand to her mouth. Her sobs silent, tears gathering on her hand. Her free hand is clasped in Hotch's. He squeezes softly, lets her know that she isn't alone now, won't be alone afterwards. That he trusts her to take care of Morgan even after everything is said and done.

"Whatever James told you are lies." Buford exclaims and to the sadness already in her body comes the rage. Rage that also shows in Morgan.

"He doesn't lie. You did the same thing to me!" He yells. She can't listen. She can't. This is too private. Yes, she will marry him. They plan a life together. But this… this isn't something that anyone should hear. Because Derek fights. Fights for his sanity and justice not only for him but for the kids that came after him. Fights to end this circle of child abuse. Of sexual harassment.

"You didn't pull me out of the dirt! I did! Everything that I have I did on my own!" His voice is powerful but Hermione can hear the tears clogging his throat, can image the moisture collecting in his eyes. She feels the anger overpowering the sadness. Can't believe the nerve of the once cherished hero of the neighborhood when he wants to take another part of Morgan.

"Actually, you have something to do with whom I became. Because of you I'll make sure for the rest of my life that people like you will rot in prison." The pleading that follows is like acid in her ears. She wills the detective to already move, to put an end to this. And finally there it is, handcuffs closing around Carl Buford's wrists.

Hermione rushes forward, not caring that she will get an earful for even going to a remotely dangerous thing like this. She calls his name, once and he captures her, brings her close to him. She doesn't comment on the moisture on her hair or the way he clings to her. She will be his shoulder to cry on as long as she lives.

When Buford has the nerve to plead for his support, she can't suppress the fire bursting through her, the poison flowing freely through her voice.

"How dare you!" She yells, makes to turn around and scratch his eyes out. But strong arms keep her rooted. Derek's voice calls her name through the haze that clouds her.

"Baby, Hermione! Please, don't. He isn't worth it. He isn't worth it." He says again and again, closing his arms that she loves so much around her. Hermione leans against him, a wall between him and a man she hopes dies a painful death. She promises herself that she will continue to do so - be Derek's save haven. No matter what.

* * *

When Buford is moved out of the room, Hermione turns around again. Her eyes search Morgan's. He looks at her. A bit broken, a bit overwhelmed, but happy. She smiles, one of her hands placed above his heart.

"I'm so proud of you." She whispers, a small, wobbly smile on her lips. A new rush of tears cascades down her cheeks.

"Oh, baby." Derek mutters, burying his head against hers, kissing her forehead again and again.

"It's over, honey. It's finally over." She whispers, kissing his neck and chin to finally meet his mouth in a deep kiss. She knows he will need time to overcome this. They both will. But for all the anger and sadness that they both experienced today, Derek can finally let go. Not fully. It will never disappear. Her own dark pit is a cruel reminder of that.

"I love you." He whispers softly, his pointer finger caressing her cheek when they pull apart. When they both turn around they see Hotch and Gideon standing in the doorway. Silent. Hermione is grateful that they didn't bring the rest of the team.

They leave the gym together, her hand vanishing in his big hand. Tiredness creeps into her bones and she leans her head against his shoulder.

When they meet the rest of the team the air is filled with tension. Derek's hand flexes around hers and she knows he's afraid.

"So, when did you plan to tell us that you're gonna be a daddy?" JJ says lightly, a small smile on her lips. Derek laughs once, a hand going to the back of his head.

"Well…" He says, glancing down to the love of his life.

"Penelope will kill you." Reid throws in and everyone else laughs as well.

"Nah, my babygirl won't." Derek says confidently.

"Babygirl huh?" Hermione says with a raised eyebrow stepping back from him.

"Uh…" Derek says and Hermione smiles behind her hand.

"I'm Spencer Reid, by the way." The youngest member of the BAU says and extents a hand.

"Dr. Spencer Reid." Derek's corrects.

"Oh, a pleasure. Hermione Granger." She answers, a smile on their face.

"Soon to be Dr. Hermione Morgan." Derek says and puts an arm around her pulling her into his side. The aforementioned rolls her eyes.

"Interesting, in what did you promote?" Spencer asks and falls in step beside the pair.

* * *

 _Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!_


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